Accusations Of The First Degree
by DarkArrow225
Summary: They see it every single day they show up for work. Murder. It's their job to find out who committed the crime. Now though, the entire situation is twisted around when Mac and Don get in to a trouble no one on the team saw coming. They've been arrested...for murder in the first degree. Rated M for later use of strong language.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Ok, so here is a story I've been thinking about doing for a little. I know, it's another story I need to finish, but I at least need the starting idea down so I won't forget later and I'll juggle this one just like the others. I know I also owe you all a lot of new chapters on the other stories, so I do hope to get around to them as well. So, I hope you like this idea of a different type of trouble for our friends at CSI: NY. As you know, it's always gotta be trouble, as I seem to have problems with putting the characters back on the shelves exactly as I found them…**

"What the hell was that?" Don asked as he leaned back in the chair. Mac sat across from him and the scene around them was a somewhat noisy one. They were at a local bar on a Friday night, taking some much needed time for a few drinks and a friendly chat.

"What the hell was what, Don?" Mac asked as he also leaned back, staring at Don with raised eyebrows and this somewhat funny looking smile. As Don laughed at him, Mac's smile widened and he took another drink from the bottle in front of him before setting it back down on the table.

"C'mon, Mac, don't play like you don't know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!" Don exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly at Mac.

Mac finally laughed. "You have _got_ to let that go!" he said, clapping his hands together and smiling over at his partner.

"Oh…oh…that's how you want to play?" Don asked, leaning back in his seat again as he'd sat forward when he pointed a finger at Mac. "Go to hell then, Mac! Go to hell!"

Mac was still laughing as he held a hand to his head, amused by his partner's exclamations. "Should I go now or should I wait five years?" he asked teasingly.

Don stared at his boss with a look of mock shock on his face. "Whenever you so choose, you jackass!" he replied, his face cracking in to a wide smile as he tossed a balled up napkin at the older detective.

Mac smirked and watched as Don took a drink from his own bottle. "Ok, how in the fucking world did you convince me to do this again?" he asked.

Don shrugged and Mac picked up his bottle again. "I don't know, but it looks like one of us will have to stop drinking soon. Someone's gotta drive your ass home!" he said with a smirk.

Mac smirked and he eyed Don. "And who would be driving this Marine's sorry ass home tonight?" he asked, smiling.

Don shrugged and finished off the last little bit of alcohol in the bottle before setting it on the table between the two of them. "Me if you order another round, dumbass!" he said, sounding like the answer was totally obvious.

"Who would take your car?" Mac challenged, a stubborn smile crossing his features.

"I'd walk back here and get it," Don said with a confident nod as he leaned back comfortably in the seat, hands behind his head and smiling over at his partner.

Mac smirked and finished off his own bottle. "I don't think so. We'd both be unable to walk in a straight line by the time I'd let you drive me home after you did this," he said.

Don's eyebrows shot up and he stared at Mac, once again with mock shock on his face. "Is that a threat, Mac?" he asked, a small smile still on his face.

Mac smirked and leaned forward a little, resting his hands on the table, "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," he said.

"Oooohhhh, cop gone bad. That's a title you know the media'll get a kick out of putting on their front page!"

"Don!" Mac said, waving a hand at his partner as he leaned back in his seat. "Please! Don't remind me!"

"Ohhhhhh…" Don said, realization showing on his face and his smile disappearing. "Right, sorry buddy."

Mac shrugged and waved a hand at him again. "Don't sweat it; it's over and behind us. I just don't want to have to think about it again,"

"Detective Mac Taylor? Don Flack?" Both detectives looked up at the sound of their names.

"Can I help you, sir?" Mac asked, looking at the man that now stood at him and Don's table curiously.

"I need you to come with us. It's important," the man said, stepping back to let both of them get up.

Mac and Don exchanged a glance of confusion, but they both stood and followed the man out. He led them over to a black SUV parked across the road from the bar.

"What's this all about?" Mac asked as his gaze traveled over the three men before him.

The man that had led them out of the bar took in a deep breath. "I hate to rain on anyone's parade, but…you're being placed under arrest," he said, pulling back his jacket just far enough to reveal a badge.

"Wait…what?" Don exclaimed as the two men that had been standing with the man that led them out of the bar stepped forward, each of them grabbing one of the hands of the two shocked detectives.

"What the hell is this about?" Mac demanded as one of the men cuffed his hands behind his back.

"It's about murder, Detective Taylor. I understand you're quite familiar with."

Mac stared at him incomprehensively. "Murder?" he asked.

"In the first degree."

Don and Mac exchanged another glance. "What's that got to do with us?" Don asked, finally looking back at the man that led them out of the bar.

The man sighed and frowned a little. "We'll talk about it in the car, unless you'd like me to add resisting arrest to your current list of charges, detectives?"

"Whoa, wait! You're charging _us_ with _murder_?" Mac asked, eyes wide as he stared in absolute shock at the man standing before him. He could not believe his ears on this one.

The man nodded. "Yes. Do I need to add resisting arrest, Detective Taylor?" he asked impatiently.

Mac glared at him, Don reading his tense posture and pretty much clenched jaw very clearly. Mac was _pissed_! He could just see this was going to be a very, very, very long night.

"No," Mac replied flatly. There was about a million different other things he could think of to say right now but he figured it best to keep his mouth shut. He still just couldn't quite grasp the idea of what was going on. _Murder? They're arresting us for _murder_?_

Talk about a punch in the face and a stab in the back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Detective Taylor…do you mind telling me what you and Detective Flack were doing at the bar tonight?"

Mac looked at the man sitting across from him with fire blazing in his blue eyes. The man had introduced himself as Detective George Hanks. That was the only part Mac had really paid attention to besides the facts he stated.

First degree murder. Premeditated murder. Two shots to the head, execution style.

He was _not_ guilty of anything like that.

"I mind, if you don't have a problem with that," Mac said. Honestly he was just trying to be a pain in the ass at the moment because he was so pissed that it couldn't have mattered to him at that moment.

"I actually do, so I need you to tell me, Taylor," Detective Hanks persisted.

Mac leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, the cuffs around his wrists making a _clank_ as he did so. "If going out with a friend and having a few drinks after a long week at work has suddenly been made a crime, enlighten me, Detective," he said.

"You off-duty tomorrow, Detective Taylor?" Hanks asked.

"As a matter of fact I am, Detective Hanks," Mac replied with the same tone Hanks had used.

There was a moment of silence in the room and the tension was so think that you probably could've cut it with a knife.

"Do you know this girl?" Hanks finally asked, laying a picture in front of Mac. It was a picture of the victim in the case.

Mac held Hanks's gaze for a moment longer before he looked down at the girl in the photo. She was young, mid-twenties by the looks of it, with dark green eyes and black hair that was in a ponytail in that specific photograph. Mac looked back up at Hanks. "No, I don't. I've never seen her before," he said.

"Her name is Emily Mariez. She's our murder victim. I want the truth, Taylor," Hanks said.

"I didn't kill her! And neither did Don!" Mac snapped, glaring at the detective across from him. He sat back in his chair as he watched the detective look him over. Mac knew he was trying to read him, trying to see if he was telling the truth.

"You'll find me hard to read, Detective Hanks," Mac said, his gaze falling to study the girl in the photograph as he calmed himself down. "But I promise you, I don't know this girl. I've never seen her before and I damn well didn't kill her," he said with a nod to the photograph.

Hanks sighed. "Part of me wants to believe you, Detective Taylor. The other part of me is telling me something in your story isn't right. Fingerprints and DNA are something that doesn't really lie, Detective Taylor."

Mac looked at him, sighing. "Then I don't know what to tell you. I've told you my story. I wasn't at your crime scene that night. I was at the lab that night, working on a case. I'm not sure what you want to hear from me," he said, shrugging and staring over at Hanks.

Hanks sighed, Mac losing count of how many times the younger looking detective had sighed during this first round of interrogation. "This is only a two-chance game, Taylor. If you don't tell me what really happened, then I can't help you."

"I told you what I know," Mac said, keeping his voice icily calm and starting to wonder if he'd ever be to convince this detective he was telling the story as he knew it. "I don't know who killed her, why they did, and I don't know how you found any evidence suggesting me or Don is your killer. I just know that neither me or Detective Flack was there."

"What's your relationship with Detective Flack, anyways?"

Finally, a question Mac could answer without struggling to find the right words. "He's been on my team for over ten years. We're friends."

"How far would you go?"

That question caught Mac a little off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, how far would you go for him?" Hanks questioned.

"If you're asking if I'd kill an innocent woman for him, then the answer is no. I know as a fact neither of us knows you're victim, Detective Hanks," Mac said, once again feeling slightly annoyed to be asking such questions. He'd had his job on the line before because of something like this, and he hadn't been guilty then either. Dobson had jumped, despite common belief. This kind of questioning just didn't appeal to Mac as something he'd like to be put through twice.

Hanks finally gave up with him. "I'll be talking with you again, Taylor," he said before he nodded to an officer.

Mac just frowned slightly, and stood without protest, letting the officer lead him out. Protesting with something like that really wouldn't help his case.

CSI: NY

"How was it?" Don asked as Mac sat down beside him on the floor, not feeling up to taking a seat on the bench.

"Drove me nuts," Mac replied with a sigh.

Don shook his head. "How the hell did we get in to something like this?"

Mac looked over at him. "I have no idea, Don. No idea."

"Do you know the vic?" Don asked him.

Mac shook his head and frowned a little. "No, I've never seen her before. You?"

Don shook his head. "Me neither. Haven't seen her anywhere. Except here, of course."

Mac nodded. "Same."

CSI: NY

"I need some answers now! Do any of you know the phone call I just received?"

That was Sinclair. Stella and Danny almost cringed, but looked up at him standing before them with confusion on his face.

One of the lab techs looked up for a moment before her gaze instantly fell back to whatever she had been studying under the microscope.

"I'm afraid we don't," Danny said finally. "What's the problem, Chief?"

"I just got a call that said Taylor and Flack have been placed under arrest," Sinclair stated.

"What?" Stella exclaimed, nearly dropping the sample in her hands in shock.

"Arrest? For what?" Danny asked, staring in alarm at Sinclair.

"Murder," Sinclair said, seeming a bit doubtful. He knew him and Taylor hadn't always seen eye-to-eye, but he knew he was a damn good detective. "In the first degree."


End file.
